


Spellbound

by pixelated



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Halloween, M/M, Monsterfucking, Sirius Black being horny on main, TW: mention of blood, Vampires, Werewolves, a whole slew of miscellaneous creatures, but there's a vampire sooooo, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 04:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21112727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixelated/pseuds/pixelated
Summary: When one is a creature of the night, life can sometimes be quite tedious. Friendships are difficult; dating is even more wearying. And when one has been alive— or ratherundead— for more than a century, things start to get very lonely.This is precisely why the business of otherworldly love is so lucrative, and why Lily Evans (psychic and matchmaker extraordinaire) throws the best soirees for single— er,beings.





	Spellbound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kattlupin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kattlupin/gifts).

> Based on a tumblr prompt from [kattlupin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kattlupin/). Thank you darling!

When one is a creature of the night, life can sometimes be quite tedious. Friendships are difficult; dating is even more wearying. And when one has been alive— or rather _ undead _— for more than a century, things start to get very lonely.

This is precisely why the business of otherworldly love is so lucrative, and why Lily Evans (psychic and matchmaker extraordinaire) throws the best soirees for single— er, _ beings _. 

On this particular starry evening, the turnout is rather impressive. It’s Halloween night, and as cliché as a bunch of elves and goblins getting together for drinks and dancing in the sprawling gardens of an exquisite haunted manor sounds, well— a party of this nature is rather exclusive. If you’re not invited, then you’re liable to spend a small fortune to get your name on the guest list.

Sirius Black, however, is a regular, having fucked his way through countless witches, wizards, and other fine supernatural specimens. These parties are his go-to for getting his dick wet and, as he looks around at the crowd of gorgeously eerie faces and the variety of enticing bodies, this is rightfully so.

Tonight, he sits alone in the darkest corner of an ivy-covered terrace, lurking in the shadows as a vampire is wont to do. He’s already had to shoo away a banshee, a nymph, a ghost, and two witches, but he’s out prowling for something new tonight. Something he’s never had before.

There’s a boy, woefully underdressed in torn blue jeans and a soft flannel shirt, sitting on a stone bench across the lawn being chatted up by a dapper phantom in a three-piece suit and spats. The boy— his sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms and slender wrists. He’s a pretty young thing, delicate looking, with beautiful hair that tumbles across his brow in tawny waves that shine like gold in the moonlight. 

He can’t be more than twenty years old, Sirius figures, and to the average human would seem fully human himself. If it wasn’t for the delectable scent emanating off of his body in waves he could pass, but a vampire’s sense of smell is quite keen, and Sirius knows immediately, even from this far away, that this boy is not only a werewolf, but a rather new werewolf, turned as recently as a few months ago.

This boy looks as if he’s already willing to go home with the phantom, but the hypnotic gaze of a vampire is nearly unrivaled when it comes to seduction. All Sirius has to do is catch the werewolf’s eye to lure him over and he will be enchanted, like a moth to a flame.

Sirius snaps his fingers at a passing waiter taking drink orders. He asks for a glass of Merlot and slips the man a generous tip, gesturing in the direction of his newfound interest. As soon as the waiter returns and serves the drink with a nod toward the corner of which Sirius is sitting, the boy looks up, right at him. 

Sirius smirks and, using only his eyes, beckons the boy to come to him. It’s just a squint, an alluring little thing that would seem completely innocent, but his preternatural eyes shine bizarrely in the dark. It’s a charm that works the first time, every time.

That is, until now.

The boy blinks, gripping the wine glass in his hand, knuckles white like he’s holding himself back. How he’s even able to do this, Sirius is not sure. He’s never had to put up a fight to win over someone he’s wished to claim before. They consistently fall into his bed willingly and fall out of it sated, no matter how much of their blood has been drained. He's quite the generous lover.

So Sirius makes another attempt, channeling more of this soporific power toward the boy, and he can practically see the air between them surging and rippling.

Then the boy stands, wine glass in hand, and although the phantom is fully forgotten (as he scoffs indignantly in the background, throwing a glare full of daggers with his glowing red eyes in Sirius’s direction), he steps slowly, like he’s still trying to resist the vampire’s hypnotic trance and remain where he is.

But Sirius calls him forward without a sound and the boy begins to move, closer and closer and closer still, his canvas sneakers crunching the crisp, dewy grass, until he’s finally standing beside Sirius, staring down at him as if he’s waiting for his next instruction.

With the wave of an elegant, long-fingered hand, Sirius gestures for the boy to sit beside him. The boy complies. Sirius smirks, and the boy’s eyes immediately fall upon his mouth, no doubt noticing the way Sirius’s eye teeth are just a bit too long and a bit too sharp as the little points press into his lip.

“You can drink that, you know,” Sirius says, and the boy brings the glass to his lips, eyes steadily fixed upon Sirius’s as he sips the sweet red wine. His tongue flicks out to slowly slide along his pink upper lip, tasting the sugar that lingers there, and Sirius cannot help but watch in wonderment, thinking of all the filthy tricks he’d like to see that pretty mouth do.

Sirius takes the glass and sets it down on the low marble topped table in front of them, then turns his body to face him head-on. “What is your name?” he asks, blinking thrice to undo the spell he’s put this boy under. He must make his own decisions from here on out.

“Remus,” the boy says timidly. “Are you a… a…”

“A vampire?” Sirius finishes for him, fangs flashing as he smiles. “Yes. My name is Sirius Black.” He extends his hand and the boy takes it. 

Remus’s skin is smooth, and nearly translucent at his wrist. Sirius dreams of sinking his teeth into that creamy white flesh, of opening his veins and swallowing every drop of hot blood that pumps out. Sirius hasn’t had a glass of wine since before he was turned, but he imagines Remus’s blood is just as sweet as the Merlot.

“Sirius Black,” Remus repeats, as if testing how the vowels fit inside his mouth. He turns his head just a bit, looking back to the glass on the table. “I’ve never had wine before. I like it.”

“How old are you, Remus?”

“Eighteen,” he responds, turning his lovely hazel eyes back upon Sirius.

“Just a baby.”

“How old are _you_?”

“Much older than any of your living relatives, my dear boy. But I am perpetually in my thirties.”

Remus smiles at that and Sirius creeps closer to him so that their thighs are just barely touching. He reaches up, and with a delicate thumb and forefinger, pinches Remus’s chin, turning his head just so— this way to admire his Grecian profile, that way to bask in the glow of his abject beauty. The boy is a living Ganymede and Sirius will play Zeus to capture him.

“You are such a pretty boy,” Sirius says, and he can smell the blood rushing to Remus’s face, coloring his cheeks to a bright red that’s noticeable even beneath the dark covering of ivy. “I’d love to take you home, if you’d let me.”

“Most people would be terrified to do the things you’re thinking of,” Remus tells him. “You don’t know what I am.”

“Oh but I do, Remus,” Sirius whispers, close to his ear. “And I must confess, I'm quite eager to know what having a werewolf beneath me is like.”

Remus hums quietly, narrowing his eyes. “I think you need to do better than just a glass of wine then.”

_ Oh _, Sirius thinks to himself, the corners of his mouth ticking up devilishly. 

This little wolf will need to be tamed.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](https://remus-john-lupin.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
